


Carl and Ed's Excellent Adventure

by apotropaicsymbol



Category: Venom (Movie 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Eddie Brock, Carlton Drake POV, Implied/Referenced Child Death, M for sexual humor, M/M, Morosexual Everyone Else, Multi, Other, Symbiote Swapping, crack with feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-19
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-07-08 08:03:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19866241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apotropaicsymbol/pseuds/apotropaicsymbol
Summary: Riot wants power. Venom wants a partner. Eddie wants ice cream. Carlton wants this day to make sense again.





	Carl and Ed's Excellent Adventure

Treece had captured Brock at the hospital. So far, the interrogation has not been as...fruitful as Carlton had hoped.

“ **WHERE IS HE?”** Riot roars. **“WHEEEERE'S VENOM?”**

While Carlton expected terror, instead a bizarrely quizzical look comes over Brock's face, like a puppy seeing its first butterfly. “So in a gangbang between you, the Predator, and the Xenomorph, who would be on top?”

There comes a strange, intense – hunger? – from Riot. Like a wave, pulsing through him. Huge silver claws come down on Brock's shoulders. Carlton feels a sickening thrill of power at the thought of eating Brock – so _this_ is what it feels like to transcend humanity. This is the event horizon at the end of history, and Carlton is right there, right about to cross it. The claws tighten, the heavy jaw unhinges.

In a voice like boulders falling into an abyss, Riot snarls, " ** _I have to have him--_** "

\--

Riot-as-Brock bursts back into the lab quickly after, and passes a squiggling goo to Carlton with a casual, almost backhanded “ **This is yours now** ”. The feeling of subsumption into Venom is like briefly going underwater, that moment when there is nothing but being covered in something else, something not human and not bad, before resurfacing. Much cruder than Riot's seamless entrance.

Brock says, "Riot pulled him off a dog. How'd you even fit in that, Venom?"

“ **Generations of breeding had weakened my host, but the instructions were still there. I made Gemini into the predator it was born to be.”**

“You turned a Chihuahua into a wolf?”

“ **Maybe? I am not quite sure what a 'wolf' is.”**

He barely hears the chatter. The shock of this is so intense that, Carlton realizes, his fingers had gone numb.

 **I am a loser,** Venom murmurs to him. **And now so are you. Two sad losers in love.** Heat slowly leaches back into his hands.

This...cannot be happening. It cannot be that this powerful, brilliant predator, the _only creature alive_ with the strength and the drive to save both civilizations has inexplicably jumped to Brock. For no reason, with no warning, with no gratitude from Brock. After everything that Carlton did to accelerate the rocket plans over the objections of his staff. After Carlton allowed it to join with him. After he disposed of the previous vessel, the smallest corpse he had ever seen...

“Riot,” he began in the voice he reserved for shareholders. “I am _thrilled_ to see this level of compatibility between your people and mine. And now that Venom is with us there is so much more that we can accomplish. I know that you are as committed to our goals as I am. Give me half an hour. We can be in the rocket by sundown. And then – we will be unstoppable. There was once one man, one human, who dared to dream unfathomable dreams. Two thousand years have gone by, but nobody has forgotten the name of Spartacus. His vision; his leadership. I can promise you – now that our crew is complete – our names will be remembered until the sun itself grows dark.”

“ **Silence, Carlton** ,“ Riot growls. “ **Eddie wants to go to Friendly's.”**

-

Under the fluorescent lights of Friendly's, Venom looks like a snake with no discernible mouth and glimmering eyes. Some people would, he suppose, find that cute. It nuzzles him. **I could be your pussy,** it purrs in his ear. Carlton opens his mouth to respond, and is disconcerted by the feeling of a tongue licking _behind_ his breastbone. **Or I could be your** _ **pussy**_ **,** and there's a sudden warmth and weight in his arms.

Venom has made a serviceable imitation of a large cat, although a close look shows that it's made of ropes of black matter piled and coiled around each other. The Venom cat-thing climbs up his chest and purrs into his neck in a mortifying fashion. God, he hasn't blushed like this since he was a teenager. He surreptitiously tries to lean away, but it's impossible to escape a creature that is literally inside of one's body.

“Sir, just so you know, we don't allow animals in here.” It's the waitress.

“It's my emotional support – cat.”

( _ **Pussy** _ **,** Venom rumbles). Riot is, of all things, manifesting as a _spoon_ and shoveling dollops of hot fudge into Brock's mouth at an industrial pace. There's no way a human arm – let alone Brock's - could move so smoothly, so precisely, and the shine of the spoon is just a little too liquid.

“But of course, you have my apologies. I think we had better lea--” She's already retreating. He uncertainly stirs his own mint chocolate chip cup. He almost never eats processed food, but if he has a built-in endocrinologist he supposes things are a bit different.

A bright, excited voice says, “Oh my God, it's Eddie Brock! Can we get a selfie with you?” Just to add to his personal hell, two teenage girls have arrived at their table. His PR people will have quite the day.

“And Elon Musk!” the second one says, looking ecstatic.

Eddie says, “Yeah, Elon! Carlton. Elton. Elton!”

It is impossible to tell if he is acting this stupid on purpose or not. Carlton attempts to laugh. It comes out more hollowly than he intended. Both symbiotes slip out, baring their teeth, and Eddie screws up his face in a grin.

Click.

“Thank you!” “You're the best!”

 _Tap tap tap tap_ go their heels.

After they leave, Brock looks at him – really looks at him, for the first time since the aborted interrogation. His eyes crinkle up, and there's an indefinable sweetness in his expression - something warm and open and loving. So good, so affectionate to the man who kidnapped him - and that part of Carlton that cannot stop asking questions says, _What is this?_ Whatever mysterious effect this moron had on first Venom and now Riot – that not one but _two_ interstellar conquerors should be derailed from their expansionary goals – it's happening to him too. Panic and irritation war in him - he should just walk out now. But a voice in Carlton's head says, _you asked for him at the interview, you stood too close on purpose, you bought a new suit just for that. You liked granting him access but you liked telling him to get out more. You're not getting anything you don't want._ It's not Venom's. It's not wrong.

Carlton gradually recognizes it, the wash of emotion he felt refracted through Riot's alien perceptions, now coming to him in his own right. Unfair, that this alcoholic disaster should inspire this kind of sentiment. Didn't that happen to Brock's ex-girlfriend, too? The lawyer? At the time he had briefly wondered what she had seen in him. Now he knows.

“Riot can be the Alien, Venom can be the Predator. How about that gangbang?”

“We _do_ need to pay before we leave, Brock. Money can be exchanged for goods and services.”

Brock grins at that, and it does nothing to assuage Carlton's abnormal reactions.

As they head away from their table, Brock's hand subtly bumps against, then intertwines with Carlton's own. One step, then another, and Brock doesn't pull away. By the time they leave the store, Carlton is holding Brock's hand back. It is the first time in years he has held the hand of another person.

No sooner is this thought complete than Carlton feels Venom dripping (dribbling?) out of his wrist on the other side, forming a hand of its own. He cannot think of anything to say, and maybe there is nothing to say. Maybe there's just a space of silence for the four of them, set apart from his own species, set apart from any other. A place of untouchable quiet, without masks, without lies, fearing neither ambiguity nor answers.

“So me and Riot are gonna be on top, right? Or is it that the aliens are gonna top? Or is it --”

“ **Everyone will be on top besides you, Eddie. Everyone.”**

* * *

r/AskReddit

is that picture of Carlton Drake with the Brock report dude real? what are those things coming out of their backs? shitty photoshop is shitty but i don't know why anyone would do that. or why they're eating ice cream. isn't CD supposed to be a health nut?

-

r/SanFrancisco

Please help my Grandmother find her dog! If you see it email [manfredifamily@waa.com](mailto:manfredifamily@waa.com). Thank you so much <3

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r/EnoughDrakeWank

THERES NO GODDAMN WAY EDDIE BROCK AND DRAKE ARE DATING THIS ISNT A FUCKING FAN FICTION YOU CLOWNS [Thread Locked]

-

r/Cryptids

Guys this is the real deal! I didn't believe in the sausalito direwolf but i saw it outside my house?? Photos inside!!!

* * *

MISSION FILE

_> >You lack full permissions to view this file. Sensitive data may not be displayed.<<_

Assigned: Riot [team leader]

Blight [combat specialist]

Shock [study specialist]

Venom [support]

Initial signal: received

Second signal: received

Third signal: received

Fourth signal: failure to receive

Fifth signal: failure to receive

Sixth signal: failure to receive

Seventh signal: failure to receive

Eighth signal: failure to receive

Final signal: failure to receive

Emergency signal: not received

Additional signals: none received

Recommended conclusion: Mission in abeyance. In absence of further data, recommendation to follow standard procedure.

MISSION HELD IN ABEYANCE, ORDER OF CORE LEADER 3.

FILE CLOSED.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by this post: https://trickerydickerydock.tumblr.com/post/179493986261/trickerydickerydock-theory-a-the-majority-of
> 
> Constructive criticism is appreciated. Thank you for reading.


End file.
